#but I hate doing dead end meaningless nothing

[shithitsmynipples]

Every couple of years I get fed up with where I’m at and entertain the possibility of going to mortuary school

[team7-headquarter]

Team 7 introductions are like:

Naruto: I want to obtain POWER so I can force people to look at me like an actual human being and not a monster, haha! They won't ignore me or isolate me anymore! They're gonna BEG ME and put their lives on my hands and— Oh and ramen. All the ramen. And maybe prove to everyone that they are dumb ass fuck for not believing in me? Yeah, prove them wrong, that's cool! And and and Iruka-sensei is cool! I'm so happy when someone does the bare minimum and respects my life and acknowledges the fact that I'm just a kid and that I'm suffering (one of) the craziest discrimination acts applied by our government Hokage...

Sakura: you know how the first real goal I got like the first thing I wanted for myself after years of being bullied and being nobody and wanting to disappear was the affection of this boy? Well, all these other girls think I don't stand a chance and that they'll get the boy, so I'm gonna win the boy and laugh at their faces. Does it mean that I need validation and affection and attention and love? Not, what are you saying, I have a perfect normal life and parents that are totally involved in my life and I am happy! So happy! I wouldn't know what sadness or loneliness is like! Never! I'm normal and totally nothing to worry about!

Sasuke: you'll find that the things you like in life are meaningless when you carry the trauma of being the sole survivor of a genocide committed by the brother you loved and adored. I want him dead which shouldn't be surprising given that we live in a society ruled by violence, right? I hate a lot of things because I'm painfully aware of how miserable our reality is. Since this is my trauma, no one else has the right to do something about it. They certainly didn't seemto have the balls to go after him, even when they call him criminal, so I'm gonna kill Itachi myself. Obsessed you said? Try enjoying life when you know someone can commit genocide and no one would give a fuck and the government won't do a thing. Try caring for others knowing they can get kill any day and you'll have to look the other way. I dare you to.

Kakashi: *most emotionally neglected adult in the village, abandoned as a kid, saw his father do the right thing and get so socially pressured he ended up commiting suicide and the government didn't give a shit, forced to become a perfect weapon at young age to show off the village strength, forced to become an elite assassin as a kid, people in the village widely making fun of his trauma and acting like he's just weird / peculiar and not on the verge of losing his mind for real, a champ at dissociation and a minute more away taking roots in front of the graves of his mistakes because he spent way too much time there in self-punishment, basically the most miserable jounin in the whole village*

Kakashi: hm, I won't let you get to know me or get close to me because everything I touch dies and I don't want to get attachments because you're soldiers and you might die and it doesn't matter that I have history with two of your families and that you all remind every single minute of the boy I watched die and the girl that I killed and the boy used to be. You will never know any of that. I am a whole man with a whole life that you'll never know because I am just your superior here and you must obey me in our missions. I'm definitely not hiding the fact that the village just failed me and set me up to be the one who failed you all in case you get killed or lose your shit once and for all.

[marygih]

Do you have any new headcanons? I found the ones in your pin very interesting!

Firstly: forgive me for the delay in responding, I started collecting my new headcanons and ended up forgetting to come back here to show them.

Anyway, my new headcanons:

1. Olive's tiara/crown is also made from a heavy material to help her stay on the ground and not fly away. It's extra weight to give her more comfort on the ground.

2. The council of ymbrynes never learned that Bentham accidentally created the hollowgasts. If they had known, Bentham would probably have been arrested. Even if he didn't create the hollows on purpose, he definitely planned a small genocide. This is probably considered a crime by the council.

3. Peculiar souls are not acidic, ambrosia was only acidic because the Wights wanted it, they made it that way. An addictive and corrosive liquid. It was their way of harming their peculiar "allies".

4. Caul always knew that Miss Peregrine was the successor of one of the 12 great ymbrynes who sealed Abaton and this probably made him hate her even more.

5. Nothing bad happened with the old Enoch loop, he probably just didn't suit the place and asked to change loops and ended up in Cairnholm,As grumpy as Enoch is, he likes living there, if he didn't like it he would have asked to change loops at the first opportunity.

6. Every time Abe visited Emma after the war he always went with the intention of ending everything with her, but personally he couldn't, he never had the courage to break her heart personally. Ending everything by letter was easier for him and more painful for her.

7. Claire is very young, she was probably found by Miss Peregrine when she was still very little and Ymbryne adopted her, that's why Claire is so attached to Miss P, she's the closest thing Claire has ever known to a mother.

8.Just like Olive and Noor, Claire is also a peculiar "Infant" she was born with a second mouth on the back of her head and her story must be quite sad.

9. When Victor's body was brought to the island, Enoch was the one who sewed up the entire body, he was the only one who had the courage to do this for his friend.

10. Millard has never feared being forgotten by Miss Peregrine, and probably enjoys being in her presence because she never fails to notice him. She feels his peculiarity, it's as if she sees him. Even though she doesn't really see him, she feels him, she always knows where he is, he will never be forgotten by her, she is the only one who notices his presence all the time.

11. Horace's dreams are completely meaningless, sometimes he manages to interpret and avoid the bad future, and sometimes he cannot understand what he dreamed but tries to explain and everything comes out confused and meaningless.

12. During the entire time that Fiona was missing, she was recovering from the injuries caused by her fall and the violence of the wights.

13. When Miss Peregrine saved Abe she probably didn't know what his peculiarity was, he was too young to be able to kill a hollow, he probably only discovered his gift when he was older and managed to survive an attack by hollowgasts. After all, there is no way for him to discover his power without having met Hollow in person.

14. Hugh has a whole routine organized for his bees so that their life in his stomach is as comfortable as if they lived in a normal hive.

15. There was probably a burial for Caul, and for all the current wights, after all, before they discovered what they had become, they were all presumed dead.

16. The constant transformations of ymbrynes into their respective birds harm their bone health. Their bones keep changing size and becoming hollow, their joints are also damaged, which is why they develop bone and joint problems early. Like Miss Peregrine's arthritis and how Miss Avocet became a wheelchair user.

17. Mr White and his men always knew that the children were with Caul and not Miss P. He was only so worried about knowing where the Falcon was because he knew that it was his master, and he was worried that he wasn't with the children. The wights were only chasing the children to force them to look for Miss Wren faster.

18. Wights do not have complete control or trust in hollows, and they can see the creatures, but they do not trust them enough to ride hollows like Jacob does.

19. Miss Peregrine's greatest fear is losing one of her children. She's already lost many children to tragic deaths, and she definitely doesn't want to go through that again.

20. The ymbrynes of the primordial era of the peculiars were also giants. Gigantic and very wise bird-women.

[literary-motif]

O ma gawd could you possibly do one about after Love dying Xanthus vents his frustration out on his writing or poems or smth and soon breaks down in front of dontis

Lmao the angst is something alright<33

Life Eternal

Xanthus Claiborne x Reader

He supposed it was inevitable. You were human, after all. 

That did not mean he was prepared to lose you. He could not forgive himself for not being at your side and saving you when he had the chance. Even his blood was not powerful enough to resurrect the dead, and as he rushed to you, heart beating on the very verge of breaking, all he caught was your last smile in his direction before you faded away forever. 

The scream of anguish Xanthus had let out as he cradled your lifeless body would haunt Dontis until the end of his days. 

Feeling the bond break was the most painful experience of his life and despite himself, he was happy that it was him suffering through this anguish and not you. It was as if the very air had turned stifling. He could not breathe anymore, every movement hurt, and with every beat of his heart, he was reminded of the part of it that was missing. 

He could deal with the physical pain. He had gone through worse, but what shattered him was the blackness surrounding his heart. It felt like he had died with you and all that was left of him now was an empty shell. 

There was no light in the world. Xanthus did not know himself anymore. Everything felt foreign. 

He looked at his art gallery and saw nothing but an accumulation of things that would soon turn to dust. He walked through his mansion, one he had tended to and cared for for decades, and saw nothing but walls and emptiness. 

The silence was the worst. It made him feel like a void, present but absent at the same time as loneliness, emptiness, and nothingness ate him up from the inside. His sanity was hanging on by a thread and the steady ebb and flow of anguish and sorrow in his mind was wearing him down. 

In the quiet, he heard the echo of your sweet voice, making his heart seize until he doubled over in pain, gasping for breath until he scratched at the walls, sobbing for his lost love. 

He played the piano until his fingers cramped, desperate to fill the silence and push you out of his mind. He longed for a moment of respite from this hell, but even that was denied him. 

How much sorrow could one person take? Had he not suffered enough for his long life?

He gasped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, then a head gently resting on top of his. Xanthus did not dare turn around to face the emptiness where you should be. Instead, he closed his eyes, trying to keep his hands steady enough to continue the piece as tears rolled down his face and his shoulders shook with barely contained sobs. 

It was a different kind of death he experienced, and Xanthus felt buried alive.

“I hate what you did to me,” he said, sitting on the windowsill with his feet dangling in the open air. The fall could not kill him. It would not even hurt. “I hate who you left behind,” he continued, talking to the moon. 

He wished it were you instead. 

The full moon reminded him of the time you went stargazing together. You had curled into his side, leaning your head on his shoulder as you told him about the constellations, marveling at the beauty before you. He had listened with a hum, arms securely wrapped around you as he closed his eyes, focusing on you instead. 

Xanthus sighed, leaning against the wall. The soft night breeze ruffled his hair and he huffed as it dried his tears. “I don’t forgive you,” he muttered, cursing the universe, fate, or whatever else was responsible for the grand scheme of things. “I don’t forgive you for taking them away.”

He stopped counting the days he remained sitting there, gazing into the distance as night turned to day and night again. The passage of time was meaningless to an immortal. What would it matter if he lost a decade like this? What was there to lose now that you were gone? He was dead inside.

“Xanthus?” He blinked, slowly becoming aware of the reality around him when he felt hands on his shoulders, gently tugging him inside.

“What do you want?” he rasped, snatching his arm from Dontis’ grip. “Get out. I don’t want company.”

Dontis looked at him sadly, glancing around at the papers littering the floor. He took in his friend’s ragged appearance. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” he asked, placing a hand on Xanthus’ cheek and tilting his head to look at him. 

The dark circles under his eyes looked like bruises on his pale skin. His eyes were dull and lifeless, fixed on Dontis but staring through him all the same. 

“Leave, Dontis,” Xanthus said quietly, stepping back to shrug off his hand. “I want to be alone.” He turned his back to Dontis, leaning against the windowsill to look at the setting sun.

“I think you’ve been alone enough, Xanthus.” Dontis bent down, picking up one of the papers. 

I find you in the moon,

You’re in the gentle breeze at night.

Each time I see the stars,

I see the past I can’t leave behind.

You’re in the whispers of the keys,

Dancing slowly through the air.

You are the brightness of my life,

How can I see when you’re not there?

Look at the wreck you have made me.

I am falling apart now that you’re gone.

I want to hate you I’ll always love you. Come back to me.

I can’t live without you. Please come back to me, love. 

“Xanthus—”

“I will forever be alone now,” he said, his voice tight with tears, “so unless you can bring them back to me somehow, I suggest you stop robbing me of my solitude without offering real company unless you want me to snap your neck.”

Dontis sighed, setting the paper down on the remnants of the desk. Xanthus had nearly torn it to pieces.

“It will get better,” he said. “With time, you will find yourself again without them.”

“Dontis, I’m warning you—”

Xanthus stilled as his arms wrapped around him, engulfing him in a warm hug. He sighed, melting in the tight embrace. He was exhausted. He was tired of hurting all the time and having this void in his chest. 

“I’ve got you,” Dontis said, tightening his grip and guiding Xanthus’ head to rest against his shoulder. 

Slowly, Xanthus returned the embrace. He felt a fresh wave of tears overcoming him, and he held onto Dontis tightly as he sobbed into his shoulder. “I miss them, please,” he cried, allowing himself to break apart in his friend’s arms. 

“I know. It will get better, I promise,” Dontis said comfortingly, not believing the words himself.

[pythoria]

In light of the new astarion voice lines in reaction to mizora, I think we finally need to put to rest the whole monogamous vs polyam astarion discourse. Here's the thing. Polyamory is never explicitly discussed or negotiated at any point during the astarion romance. You get individual instances of astarion being okay with various things, like a one night stand with the drows or halsin. It's unclear in the coversation about halsin if he's agreeing to a one night stand or a three-way relationship deal, he just gives you a general go ahead to do whatever you want with halsin because he trusts you. But then halsin doesn't stick around at the end of the game, and by the time he leaves he's only ever been with astarion in the context of the drow orgy (which is optional), and only sexually. Halsin is only interested romantically in the player char from what we're shown. Everyone is free to headcanon otherwise or write whatever fics they want, but as long as we're arguing about canon we have to be very specific. Nothing about any of the conversations with astarion suggest polyamory. They might have suggested a sort of open relationship situation before, but now with mizora, we have proof that there was no negotiation or blanket consent given off screen for having sex with other people, and in fact, it hurts astarion deeply to see his partner engage in sex with someone else.

Now, you can argue it's because he didn't consent to it beforehand, fair enough. Let's walk through what that conversation could've looked like, shall we? If you'd have asked him if you can sleep with mizora, he could've either said yes or no, it's pretty straightforward. From how upset he is, and the fact that he doesn't bring up you not getting his approval beforehand, we can infer his answer would've been "no" (because if he would've said yes anyway, you would get the type of reaction you get with ascended astarion, a "next time invite me" type response). So then, why would astarion say no to mizora specifically, if asked? After all, he's presumably okay with meaningless sex, even when he's not involved, because he lets you sleep with one of the drows all by yourself. And presumably he's also okay with it when feelings are involved, if he's truly okay with the halsin arrangement. So what part of sleeping with mizora is different? Why would he suddenly disagree with it if he was previously okay with similar arrangements?

Here's the thing. Astarion says yes to things out of pressure. Obviously he tells you so himself in act 2, "i didn't know how to say no", and that's corroborated by his dead expression during the drow 4/5some. He says yes to things, hates them, and then depending on how violated he feels afterwards, he decides whether or not it's a forgivable transgression on the part of his partner. He HAS to do it after the fact, because prior to it, he doesn't know how he will feel, he doesn't know if something specific is going to be the thing that tips him over. When he says "i didn't know how to say no" in act 2, it's not just that he instantly knew he didn't want to have sex with tav and went along anyway, it's also that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, and maybe mistakenly believed he could put up with it, until he actually did it. With the drows, the only difference is that he does put up with it, by dissociating. For astarion, something is either too much, or something he can tune out and deal with. He never expresses any "mild" discomfort that you can talk to him about, except for when he's anxious you want to have sex with halsin because he doesn't put out. And even then, there's nothing you can say that will make him disapprove of the halsin thing, short of completely breaking up with him. He voices an insecurity, sure, but even when told that insecurity is legitimate, he still agrees to the halsin situation.

This is why I need everyone to understand, there is no polyam negotiation with astarion, he blanket accepts everything until he snaps, because that's what trauma victims do. I'm not saying this out of a desire to prove astarion is monogamous, either. If the game showed healthy communication about this I wouldn't be here arguing about any of this. Polyamory is valid and can be done in a healthy way, but what you have in the game is not a representation of polyamory, it's a representation of a trauma victim not knowing his own limits and chugging full speed ahead until he snaps. The mizora exchange just cements that further. The roll you have to pass to get him to stay with you isn't "let's discuss boundaries, i didn't know this wasn't allowed", it's "this didn't mean anything". If this man was already okay with meaningless sex on the side, why would you need to convince him of it? All you're doing is manipulating him, and the result of that manipulation isn't even "okay, you can have meaningless sex from now on as long as we talk beforehand", instead, he says he forgives you. There's no implication that this could happen again, if only you have his consent, he just forgives you for this one transgression and agrees to move on. And let me be perfectly clear, I've shipped polyam ships before, I don't have an inherent bias against it. But we all, collectively as a fandom, need to learn to read the room. The signs of discomfort are all there, it doesn't help anyone if we put on horse blinders and ignore them. My only desire is to see astarion interpreted faithfully, not to start or contribute to a war people seem to be having about the validity of polyamory in general or in real life.

So, in conclusion, we need to separate headcanons from canon. Canon is, at best, unclear on what Astarion is comfortable with. It helps no one to act like this is a clear cut issue on either side, but imo it's more harmful to potentially force him into situations he's uncomfortable with than to just let him lead, since he doesn't propose any of these arrangements himself, and never does them for his benefit, only his partner's.

And one last thing. This is not to say "don't do these things because they're bad". They're in the game so you can do them and roleplay however you want. However, we need to be realistic about the kind of characters we're playing. If your tav pressures astarion into these various situations, that's not a good-aligned tav, and that's okay, as long as you're not pretending otherwise. I love an evil durge playthrough as much as the next person, but none of it would be cathartic or fun if the whole time I was under the impression that murder is actually fine and good.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Unwanted love

𖤐Pairing: Ghost x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Some angst, hints of smut, arranged marriage, fingering, p in v, jealousy, fake love, toxicity, arguments, some harassment, fake names

𖤐Summary: Ghost and Y/n are an arranged married couple due to Y/n’s father wanting protection from anyone trying to kill them. Ghost got his payment and requested to marry Y/n

——————

———————

The L/n family were a rich and successful family. So successful that the head of the L/n family; Matteo L/n needed protection for his family.

He had hired some men to protect him and his family but since he paid them, the guys wanted something else in return.

Marriage with the only daughter of the family, Y/n L/n.

She is selfless, stable, kind and open-minded.

The headed of this organization, Simon Ghost Riley who is Y/n's arranged husband is the opposite of Y/n. He's cold, demanding, jealous and serious.

If you looked at him the wrong way, you were on the floor with blood coming out of you, it didn't matter who you were, what you did, you would be dead to him and everyone else.

Ghost hated people, couldn't stand them and when he 'married' Y/n, he ended up vowing that he would protect her even against people he may trust. He gained a soft spot for Y/n but REFUSES to show it to her or anyone.

-----------

Y/n sat on the couch in the big house on her stomach looking at her phone she was on Facetime with her best friend, Ruth.

Y/n and Ruth have been best friends since they were babies. Ghost knows about Ruth and has expressed how he doesn't like her to Y/n. Y/n doesn't give a fuck though and still talks to her.

Y/n and Ruth were talking about going to a club and doing a girl's night.

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen you since the wedding," Y/n said.

The wedding was around 3 years ago. Y/n sometimes feel like a prisoner in her own home, she shares with Ghost.

"Yes, I know. We should go tonight."

"Tonight, okay-"

"Or do you need to talk to your husband about going out?"

Anytime Ruth and Y/n make a plan to do anything, and Y/n goes and tells Ghost. Ghost gets all mad and Y/n has to tend to Ghost making her plan go to waste.

"No, I won't tell him, he doesn't get to know this plan," as she said that she got up and headed to her bedroom to go get ready.

She hung up and started to get ready.

She started up a shower and shampoos her hair and started to get out. She put a towel around her waist and a towel up in her hair, she sat on the sink and started to do makeup.

Ghost had come home all pissed off. He plopped on the couch rubbing his forehead from stress and he heard Y/n upstairs with music playing.

Ghost sat up and went upstairs to see what she was doing, he saw her in the towel around her waist, the one on her head fell off on the ground. He saw her doing her makeup and was confused.

"The hell you are getting all dolled up for?" He asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"No one," she bluntly said.

"Someone," he said.

She put her makeup brush down and looked at him.

"Seriously, Simon?" She said.

"Well, I don't know what you're doing. For all I know, you could be getting ready for a date."

"That's some fucking bullshit, Simon and you know it. Do say that bullshit," she said, getting off the sink counter and pushing her finger into his chest.

"Get out of my face, Y/n," he threatened.

"Or what? What will you do, Simon? I'm already in hell, being stuck here with you, someone who claims to be my husband, but you treat me like I'm one of your men, throwing me around and 'putting' me in my place."

Ghost's eyes had darkened with her attitude. She's given it to him since they first got married. They've had sex but it was so rough and meaningless that it felt like nothing, it felt terrible, and they both knew it too.

Ghost slammed his hands on the counter behind Y/n trapping her between the counter and his toned body. She wasn't scared of him, not one bit and that's what made Ghost fall in love with her, because she wasn't afraid of him.

"I may be your husband, and I may treat you a certain way, but I have my priorities and one is you, believe it or not."

"The hell does that have to do with anything, Simon?" She asked.

She turned around to finish up her makeup, she tried to ignore his gaze on her. She could tell his eyes were dark and meaningless behind them, Ghost rolled his eyes and left the bathroom, he changed out of his clothes and grabbed some comfortable clothes.

Y/n stepped out of her towel and grabbed a tight club dress, it was black short with a slit on both side that go so far up that if she sat down, she could very expose something and she knew she wasn't going to wear underwear underneath it either.

She came out and Ghost immediately looked at her and saw the dress she was in.

"Change it," she ignored his comment. "Hey, did you hear me?"

"I did, but why would I listen to you?" She grabbed some heels with red bottoms.

Ghost grabbed her wrist, making her turn and look at him. "Because I am your husband, I know what's good for you and I don't want to watch the News and I see your face on the TV as a murder victim or something worse, do you understand?"

"Get...the fuck...off of me," she yanks her wrist from his grasp. "I am allowed to dress and wear whatever I want," she said, putting her heels on and walking to the back of the door and grabbing a small purse to put her wallet and phone inside.

"Fine...but don't say I didn't fucking warn you and let me guess...you're going out with Ruth?"

"And what if I am?"

"That's fine but-"

"But nothing, YOU HAVE TOLD ME TOO MANY FUCKING TIMES HOW YOU DON'T LIKE HER!? AND DO I FUCKING LISTEN? HELL NO! Because I don't care what you say, Simon. I'm going..." she said as she walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs where Ruth waited for her.

Ruth jokingly honked the horn at her, when she came running out of the house and getting into the passenger side and started to sing whatever was playing in Ruth's car.

Ghost watched from the front door as Ruth left the driveway and Y/n didn't even look back when they drove off.

Ghost shut the door and headed to the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

----------

9:00PM

Y/n and Ruth were at the bar on their 6th drink of the night. Both of them are obviously so drunk. Ruth was pulled away from one of the many guys there. Y/n cheered for her best friend as she danced with the guy.

Y/n leaned on the bar as some guy came up to her. He leaned next to her kind of close. Y/n moved away just a bit and looked at her.

"Hey, I'm Max," he put his hand out and to be polite, she took his hand and shook it.

"I'm, Lynn," she gave him a fake name to protect her actual ID.

"Cool, wanna dance?"

"No, I'm not good at dancing," she lied, she also wondered if he doesn't see her wedding ring.

Sure, she may get into fights with Ghost all the time, but she never did take her ring off because for some reason the saying 'I'm married' scares off so many men, even if she doesn't say it, and they see her ring and will leave her alone.

"Oh, come on, come dance with me and my friends and maybe afterwards...we can do a little something?" He got close to Y/n's ear, but she just shook her head 'no'.

"No, no thank you, I'm not here for that kind of fun, I'm here just to drink, really."

"Come on...let's just have one dance and I'll leave you alone."

"No, no, I'm fine," she said, trying to leave around the bar, but 'Max' kept following her.

"Hey, come on, please, have one dance with me or at least let me buy you one drink."

"No, I need to go."

"What about your friend, did she drive you? Let me drive you home then if you're going to leave."

"No, I'm fine," he then grabbed her wrist and before anything could happen, Max's hand immediately let go of her wrist, and she saw Max being pushed against the brick wall of the club from some guy who was a lot more taller and buffer than him.

"Simon," Y/n said, grabbing Ghost's wrist trying to pull him away from Max.

"The lady said 'no' probably more times you can count, don't fucking touch her again, do you understand?" Ghost growled before letting Max go.

Ghost looked down at Y/n and grabbed her forearm, dragging her to his car.

"Ow, Simon, y-you're hurting m-me," she said as he opened the passenger side door.

"Get the fuck in," he growled at her. He slammed the door clipping her foot when he shut it.

"Simon?"

"Shut the fuck up," he said as he drove home.

The drive was so quiet, the silence wanted to make Y/n say something, she couldn't, she didn't know what to say or what to do. She played with her fingers and looked down the whole time. Ghost's eyes were ahead, one hand on the stirring wheel the other between his teeth trying to control his anger.

"I'm sorry-"

"You're not," he said, not even looking at her. Y/n's mouth was open, and she looked like she could cry at any moment, she thought that if she apologized everything would be fine, but she was wrong.

"Simon-"

"Don't...don't FUCKING APOLOGIZE I know what you are trying to do, and it pisses me off when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Apologize and think everything will be normal again, you do it every time we get into an argument, you apologize, I forgive you and everything is apparently supposed to go back to normal. Not this time," he said as he pulled into the driveway. "Get out," he said as she did.

He opened the door going inside first and she follows. Ghost grabbed a vase and threw it across the room shattering it. Y/n squealed and covered her mouth.

Ghost knows he scare anyone, but when he scares Y/n...his heart shatters hearing her squeak.

"I'm trying to calm down...I'm trying..." he said.

"Is it me or the guy?"

"I don't know," his fist were clenched together, and his knuckles were white. She walked to him, cupping the nape of his neck making him look down, her other hand touched his right knuckle trying to calm him down.

"Y/n..."

"I am sorry...what can I do to make it up to you?"

"I don't know...I rather you did nothing...you don't like me and it's obvious that you don't, so...nothing right, now," he said.

"I never said that."

"But you show it," he said.

Y/n thought of something, her mind was in control now, her hand grabbed a hole of his hand and brough his fingers under her dress. His fingers graze her soft clit. His fingers glide through her soft, wet folds.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"I want to make it up to you, this was the only way how," she said, standing on her tippy toes and kissing his lips.

His one free hand went behind her head deepening the kiss as his fingers played with her wet clit. Y/n moaned and moved her hand from his hand that was under her dress.

She felt weak when his fingers started to move inside of her. He moved his fingers in and out her quickly. His tongue pushed its way inside of her mouth.

He pulled away from the kiss and started watch her face as he moved his fingers quickly inside of her.

He watched her as she could barely stand and removed his fingers from inside of her and picked her up and took her to their bedroom, he dropped her on their bed, he removed his hoodie, and she kicked off her heels. He started to unbuckle his jeans till he was only in his boxers.

He pulled Y/n to the edge of the bed and kissed her lips; his hands found the zipper of her dress and unzipped it. He pulled his boxers down and his hard dick sprung out.

"O-Oh," she said as she held the top of her dress so it wouldn't fall down.

"What?" He asked, with a smirk on his face and he cupped her face.

"It's...a little bigger than I remember..."

"Well...we just wanted that sex before done and over with...but tonight...I'm gonna take my time with you," he smirks and kissed her lips again.

This time she let the dress straps fall and her chest be expose. He started to pull the dress off. Ghost smirked and started to kiss her chest and suck just above her nipple leaving a dark hickey on her chest.

"Ahh~ S-Simon," she moans when he started to push himself inside of her. "O-Oh fuck," she moans, she looks down and she saw her stomach start bulging up and down with his dick inside of her.

She dropped her head back on the covers. Ghost lifted her back up, his hand on her lower back and his other hand touching her stomach where he could feel his bulge in her stomach.

He moans when he could feel himself inside of her.

He watched Y/n eyes roll in the back of her head and loved hearing her soft moans. He loved this feeling.

The first time they did it, Y/n never moaned, she wasn't enjoying it, their first time together...it was so silent and awkward that the only noise in the room was skin slapping. The only agreed to it to show that they 'loved' each other but they know damn well, they hated each other.

Y/n was a moaning wreck with Ghost's dick inside of her. She gripped the bed sheets as her knuckles went white. Ghost slid his hand up her stomach and gripped her hand just above her head.

"S-Si-ahhhh~ fuck," she moans before she felt a knot in her stomach, she ended up coming on his dick, he kept going till it was his turn to cum inside of her.

Simon loved feeling his dick just hit the right spot. He ended up coming inside of her and pulled out, he watched their cum mix together, he smirked and pulled her up and took her to the bathroom to help her get cleaned up.

---------

Y/n's back was against his hard chest as they both sat in the hot bath water. He cleaned her up the best he could and watched her look satisfied when he was cleaning her.

"Ummmm~ that feels good," she moans.

"Does it?"

"Mhm~" she moans as she leaned back into his touch. "Fuck," she groans.

"My turn," he said as he stood up in the bath and let her move back into his spot and she did what he did to her, rubbing the soap into his back and she got a soft groan from his lips.

"You wanna know something?"

"What?"

"I...I actually have a soft spot for you, I just don't show it and when I followed you to the club and saw that guy grab you, I just...I just went fucking insane, like my blood turned into fire because he touched something that was mine," he said, he looked over his shoulder and looked at Y/n who just stared at him.

"I understand...Ghost," that was the first time Y/n has called him 'Ghost' and not Simon. He hated being called Simon but never corrected her.

He smirked and leaned back on her shoulder and kissed her soft lips.

"...I love you..." he said.

"I love you too," she said, wrapping her legs around him and kissed the top of his head.

[some-pers0n]

Albatross makes me sick. He makes me ill. How does one even get to a point like this. I don't understand. The fixation on this one character is so strong.

In other words, here's that ramble I promised. It's literally just me talking about the massacre with supporting context from my fic that I haven't even written about yet. Why? He makes me that diseased.

I think there's something to be said about the nature of a character who's life begins with violence and ends with it. Albatross discovers his magic via trying to defend himself against Sapphire and Lagoon, and his final few moments alive are spent taking the lives of Lagoon and anybody else in a general vicinity.

He never wanted this. If anything, he wanted his legacy to be more than that. He wanted to be remembered as more than an animus who hurt others. Lagoon defined him as a monster who could barely contain himself, and Albatross believed it. He didn't want others to remember him as such. He wanted to be known as the first SeaWing animus, not some...beast.

I don't think he snapped. He didn't "go insane" or whatever generic trope. I think he was tired. Exhausted. It had been many decades of abuse under Lagoon. When it happened, it was more of a result from years of build-up and pressure finally being released all at once. Tensions are high. Albatross found out that he's going to be replaced by Fathom and likely killed off by Lagoon. Swiftly disposed of as soon as he was obsolete, just like with Marlin. He went in wanting to have a civil discussion, but when things turn worse, he couldn't control himself.

Albatross wanted to see Lagoon bleed the same way Sapphire did all those years ago. He always felt selfish and horrible for this. What kind of person wants to hurt another? That was such a life altering moment. Besides, they were all kids! Little dragonets. They were playing around. They...they didn't mean what they said. It was Albatross who overreacted. It was his fault for it all.

Yet, he hated her. Lagoon was a constant tumour in his life. From that moment on, he was under her control. She would dictate how his life would go. She arranged him to be married with Marlin. She had him have dragonets in hopes that he would have an animus that could replace him. She had him do party tricks. He was like an wild pet to her. Beast of destruction and chaos who had been beaten into submission. A chained lion who wanted little more to be free. An animal who hated the parties they were forced to preform at. A feral creature who wanted to bite and twist the head off the one who trapped them.

He didn't want it to end like this. He always feared it would be like this, but he wanted to avoid it as much as possible. Praying, pleading with himself. He tip-toed around using his magic as much as possible, believing that trying to "preserve his soul" would keep it at bay. Those were just myths. Legends. A lie he would quietly repeat to himself when things seemed most bleak.

But, he couldn't contain it. Since learning that he was being replaced, he knew it was up. Lagoon would send some assassin after him and have him be killed swiftly and like he was nothing. He was nothing to her. His life was meaningless. He was nothing more than her lapdog. This party, some hollow excuse for Lagoon to show off to some SkyWing diplomats, might be the last night he was ever alive.

He had nothing to lose. He wanted something in his life to be of value. To be remembered as more than a footnote in history.

And it happened. That argument. It only cemented what he wanted to do. Like the cracks in the dam finally growing weak enough for the water to burst through. He killed her. Slit her throat and left her dead on the floor, lying there like how he found Marlin all those years ago.

And he loved it. Who wouldn't? After years of being trapped and jumping through flaming hoops for the sake of entertainment, not just biting at the hand that feeds but mauling it entirely was exhilarating. He heard the screams. He heard the cries and shrieks. It was powerful to finally have some semblance of control. Of using his god-gifted powers.

He knew he was going to die this night either way, so why not take down as many as he could? Reason and thought slipped away rapidly as he devolves into pure instinct. Something he once feared he now embraced fully. He feels the freedom and joy of standing up and being seen as the force of nature he was destined to be. Not a servant for others, but an animus. A god.

I think Manta and Eel, his daughter and son, tried to reason with him. The books mention this explicitly. Manta is trying to reach Albatross. Trying to calm him down, Fathom rationalizes. Manta and Eel see their father, who they know has struggled with this all his life, and want to try and help.

This isn't him. They can help him though. They try to reason with him, but he's wild. He's full of paranoia and anxiety. All of these thoughts spill out of his mouth with no filter. It's a mess of "I'm sorry"'s and sentences that seem more like half-formed words stringed together. Manta and Eel try grounding him, but...Splash comes from behind. One of Lagoon's own dragonets. She tries stabbing him in the chest, but he reacts quickly. He kills her.

Albatross breaks further. He assumes that this was a play from Eel and Manta to kill him. His own children. The dragons he loves most. How could they do this to him? Did they never love him? Did they always see him as this force? They wanted to kill him too. They wanted him dead just like the rest of him.

He kills them both. He finishes off the rest of the scraggles, leaving him with only one target in mind: Fathom. He wants to talk with Fathom more than anything. He wants to have one last conversation before either of them dies. The screams have been silenced. It is just him and Fathom that matters.

He finds Fathom in the storage room. He can smell his fear. He monologues and rambles, finally letting these innermost thoughts out. Fathom was just like him. Fathom would've gone down the same path he did had Albatross not...done this. It was necessary. He talks about how he wasted his life before finally striking. He wants to put Fathom out of his misery. To him, he sees it as less of revenge for replacing him, but rather as a means to ensure he would never have the life he had.

But, Indigo attacks instead. He lashes back, fatally wounding her, but Fathom kills him before he can fully do it. The spears plunge into his body. He should be dead, but...he survives enough to stay standing. He remains there, looking at Fathom. He's hunched over Indigo, sobbing and pleading with her to live.

The shock of the spears sobers him enough to have him realize what he's done. His legs shake as he struggles to stay standing. Fathom looks back at him, asking him why he's done this. Asking him why he's not killing them right now.

Albatross winces. He sees the hatred and fear in Fathom's eyes. He tries to speak, but blood gurgles in his throat. The look he gives Fathom says it all though. He murderous rage had subsided. He was...sorry.

But it was too late for apologizes. He had killed dozens. He truly was that monster.

He staggers out of the room and eventually back into the main hall. He finds the statue of Lagoon he had built for her all these years ago. He steps by the corpses of SkyWings and SeaWings he barely knew, yet already mourned the deaths of. He stumbles as he rests his head on the fountain. It's grand. A beautiful piece of art.

He dies there, bowing to the statue of Lagoon.

...he remains there still. The main gimmick of the fic is that Albatross's spirit has survived. He's restless. Unsatisfied. Bound and chained to the abandoned Island Palace for a couple millennia. As a ghost, he wanders the halls. He only ever truly becomes visible and noticeable on certain nights, where the moons above align in such a way.

He cannot rest until he feels he can. The one thing still binding him to this mortal realm is his want to be remembered as more than a monster. More than anything, he wants to be known for what truly happened. To be seen as more than a mad animus.

Eventually, Turtle and the rest of the Jade Winglet come around. It's been thousands of years since the massacre. Turtle is frightened and fearful of it all, but when nightfall comes and the moons shine down from above, he meets the spirit of Albatross by the beach. A specter with a spear still lodged in his body.

Turtle, despite his fear, slowly realizes that Albatross means no harm. Albatross simply wants to tell his tale. His story. This is the framing device of the fic. Albatross telling his entire life's story to Turtle over the course of one night.

By the end, Turtle is in tears. He's crying after hearing about the massacre. He's been through so many ups and especially downs with this story. He feels guilty for ever believing that Albatross was a murderous monster.

They hug perhaps, with Albatross apologizes for subjecting him to such a tale. Turtle tells him that he wants to make up for everything his however-many-great grandfather had been through. He says to Albatross that he wants to spread this story. He's a writer. He wants to put it to paper. Spread to the masses the truth.

And...Albatross smiles. He feels so happy. Finally, after all of these years, somebody listens and trusts him. Somebody, despite viewing him as a horrible monster at first, learns how...broken he was. How horrific it all is.

The sun peaks over the horizon. The night is over. With it, Albatross is fading away. It would be several years before something like this could happen again, yet Albatross doesn't think there will be a second time. He's happy. His one wish, to have his legacy told to another, was fulfilled.

He says goodbye to Turtle and disappears in the blinding light of the sun, leaving the dragonet all alone. Now? He has a story to tell. A tale he wouldn't let others forget. For Albatross's sake.

[blackcat419]

Hotd S2 E1 A Son for a Son review

It's here. Two years weight and I'm more disappointed than a vegan at Outback Stake House. Lets get into this then.

Predictions for Season 2 and if they came true

My predictions for the reactions towards Blood and Cheese were pretty damn on. People justify Jaehaery's death, missing the irony of an eye for an eye, a son for a son, when Aemond didn't get Luke's eye and Jaehaerys isn't Aemonds son, Alicent being blamed for it.

Blood and Cheese was an accident, meant to go in for Aemond, stumbled upon Helaena, and just got told who the son is, at least they didn't accidentally trip and stab Jaehaerys.

White walkers are alluded to even though we now know they're so easy to take care of, just need one episode and POOF!

No Dyana mention so we'll see if she shows up.

Where we left each character and where they are now

For TB its very consistent. Rhaenyra is mourning Luke, Daemon is pushing for war, Rhaenys is pushing for no war, and Corlys is pushing to be relevant.

For TG its all over the place. Our consistent characters include Otto pushing for war and control, Alicent pushing for control but less war, and Larys pushing to hold the most secrets any person can. Our characters that have changed are Aegon now wanting to be king and trying to prepare Jaehaerys, Aemond deciding he totally did mean to kill Luke, Alicent changing from rule follower to now rule breaker, and Cole deciding he does like sex actually.

Aegon and Aemond's transitions make sense, they were set up in last season and it works for them. Alicent and Cristin are in a full-blown sexual relationship that's been going on long enough for them to feel comfortable doing it in mid-day. That was not set up. We miss an entire character arc for both where they 1. decide they don't want to follow the rules society tells them to and 2. decide they want to bone. This was not set up in season 1, it comes out of nowhere, there is no explanation for why these two are boning now, how they justify it to themselves, if they justify it to themselves, nothing. So instead of an interesting character arc where we see change, we just get the end with no idea how they go here. Thanks, I hate it.

Conflicts

Again, for TB the conflict is consistent from season 1 and makes sense. Rhaenyra is being pulled by her duty to the realm for peace but by her grief for war. Daemon is pushing for war, Rhaenys is pushing to not start the fight, and Corlys is there too.

But for TG it's all over the place. We still have the dumb conflict between Alicent and Otto over how much war we'll have. Not between peace and war but just, should we have more or less? it's not even really about involving the dragons as that's Aegon and Aemond's position. Overall, Alicent and Otto's conflict is poorly thought out and their positions hold so little difference that it borders on meaningless.

The conflict between the two groups is who will strike the first blow. We already have one kid dead and a blockade but we are still waiting for someone to act. wow, so intense much drama.

Adaptation from the Book

The main parts of the book being adapted are Jace's visits to the Vale, the sisterlands, White Harbor, and his stay in the north. Rhaenyrs finds out about Luke's death, and blood and Cheese.

The only part done well is Rhaenyra's grief over Luke's death. It is so powerful and Rhaenys saying that she can't properly grieve until she knows Luke is dead is very powerful. Jace has an amazing trying to talk while he cries scene, the funeral pyre is so emotional, and very well done in showing how much losing Luke affects these characters.

I am very disappointed that Jace's whole storyline going north is turned into exposition about Stark customs and the wall being so sexy and cool. No Jace and Cregan being friends, no Jace trying to convert Cregan, not even Jace hooking up with Cregan or Sara Snow. just nothing.

Blood and Cheese has to be the worst thing I've seen in a while. We have Daemon telling them to kill Aemond but it is ~ ambiguous ~ whether he said to kill Jaehaerys. We have Rhaenyra saying she wants Aemond dead but it is ~ ambiguous ~ if she knows Daemon is doing this. Blood and Cheese literally walk past Aegon in the throne room? No secret passageways into the queen's chambers, no plan, no nothing! they just happen to find Helaena. We also lose the character development of Helaena where in the books she offers up herself to be killed and only after Blood and Cheese say they'll rape Jaehaera and kill all of them, does she give in and choose Maelor to die. We don't get their cruelty of telling Maelor his mom wants him dead and then killing Jaehaerys. No, Helaena just offers up her necklace, they take it, then AFTER she knows they're going to kill her son (one of them says they need a head and a son for a son), she just walks out and runs into Alicent riding Cristin? Why? Where is the tension of Helaena being forced to choose a child to die only for that child to know their mom chose them, the drama of Helaena offering up herself to try and save her kids, the horror at what these monsters are willing to do for coin? Nothing. It was emotionless, I only felt shock at how poorly it was done.

Overall Enjoyment

I did not enjoy myself. This was not fun or interesting to watch. The showrunners are scribbling over a beautiful sketch with crayons.

What I hope for the next episode

NO MORE ACCIDENTS! I swear this show is the house of accidental war crimes.

I want to see Nettles, Daeron, and Maelor.

I want actual character development instead of character teleportation.

I predict that Alicent's character will continue to be massacred and put in scenes where Ryan Condal can see Olivia Cooke naked.

[sapphic-agent]

I think the biggest thing I've learnt from the more critical side of MHA is: don't let your favoritism affect your story. I think it's natural that you're gonna like more characters than others. But if it's like noticeable to a point where the audience sees it, it's a big problem. Or if the character is a fan favorite, they'll praise it to sky heaven. The fact that Izuku VS Shigaraki has been oddly side lined so much in favor of Bakugo VS OFA or him rescuing All Might is... weird to me. Like, I get it. He was dead for a year in our time. But... this IS Izuku's story not Bakugo's. Even if Bakugo is a deuteragonist, he's still not the MAIN protagonist. Shouldn't we be shifting more or less to Izuku VS Shigaraki? MHA has been building up their final fight for 8-9 years, and we're oddly all focused on AFO and Bakugo? And for AFO's backstory, I care less for the potato man. Shigaraki is the villain of MHA, not potato man. Such as Izuku is the protagonist of the story, Bakugo isn't. And it's so baffling to me to see MHA twt praise this series to high heaven and just don't oddily notice that Izuku is just oddily fucking quiet through out this fight?? I know he's focused on stopping Shigaraki, but nothing???? Like the Toga and Uraraka and Todoroki Family arcs got all the attention they deserved, so why tf isn't Izuku and Shigaraki?? I understand they were gonna be last, it IS the final battle after all, but it just seems it's gonna go downhill from there.

Plus, how tf is Izuku gonna be able to save Shigaraki?? Izuku is at his witt's end, and Bakugo said he would take care of AFO. Because if it's ACTUALLY Bakugo & Izuku VS Shigaraki. I'll just- I'll be so done. I get the whole "Izuku doesn't have to do everything on his own" but like- Shigaraki literally KILLED Bakugo and got revived from his goddamn blood exploding. (That shit is still funny to me.) like good Lord, can Izuku just have HIS moment??? If all of the cool power ups and cool moments go to Bakugo instead of Izuku, and Bakugo somehow saves the day.

The fucking ending is gonna be ruined by favoritism. Again, this is just an IF. But I felt crazy reading twt's and no one noticing Izuku hasn't said anything of a) Bakugo being brought back to life b) or just reacting to anything. It just seems like Izuku is just there as a device to carry us towards the ending, at this point.

You're right and you should say it.

Mind-boggling how people will look at this shit and still say Horikoshi doesn't favor Bakugou. Like, what? He is 1-v-1-ing the big bad of the series. The villain who killed almost every past OFA user (would also like to add that these are the same users he insulted and looked down on, so if he is the one to finish AFO, that's a slap in the face to every single one of them). The man who incapacitated All Might. The Demon King who's ruled the underbelly of Japan for the past 200 years.

And you mean to tell me that Katsuki Bakugou of all people is his final boss? That's just embarrassing for AFO tbh.

But the fact of the matter is, yeah Izuku's fight with Shigaraki should have been the main event. Instead, it's being treated as a side quest. Hell, it's being treated as less than a side quest as both Uraraka & Toga and the Todorokis & Dabi were given more attention.

It's sad, not only for Izuku but for Shigaraki too. Horikoshi was so close to making him a complex villain, only for all of his character progression from Deika to go down the toilet. He can't be saved because he's been written to be so completely detached from his humanity.

In general, Izuku and Shigaraki should have had more moments together throughout the series. This interaction between them is meaningless because Izuku doesn't understand Shigaraki enough to save him. It's why he's getting frustrated because there's really no feasible way for him to save Tomura. He isn't Eri or Kota who were just kids in danger and who wanted to be rescued.

I hate to say it, but Izuku hasn't had enough development to be able to save Shigaraki. It's not his fault (it's Hori's), but it's true. For him to understand Tomura, he needed to broaden his worldview and Horikoshi hasn't allowed him to do that.

It's an utter disservice to both characters

[vent-art-af]

Not to be doomer but I’m not sure you can ever really get over being abused and mentally ill. Even retraining your brain doesn’t get rid of the memories and even if you don’t consciously remember, your body does. The structure of your brain probably will. Maybe this is specific to me personally but I cannot imagine a situation where every minute of life is not a challenge and/or a chore. I feel like my brain is an outdated computer, unable to be upgraded/updated, that physically cannot run programs that the average person can and need to to be fulfilled and/or happy in life. I am not living. Nothing seems to bring any kind of lasting pleasure. Even moving my body to type this feels like I am stuck in quicksand. I don’t even have the attention span to disappear into a daydream universe let alone play music, sing, do art, or anything else that brings me joy. Every waking second I am thinking about killing or hurting myself. And I am on the best cocktail of medication I have ever been on. I am just a scared child who hates themself even though I am 25 years old. I am trapped. I have tried so hard in my life to be kind, to make friends, to be productive, to achieve great things, love myself, to forgive, to put the things I create out there into the world but there is a void that sucks it all away and makes it meaningless, whether that is god/karma/capitalism/ the universe/fate/or my own fault I cannot say. I don’t think modern psychiatry can fix what is wrong with me. So deep is this problem that I feel it is etched within my soul or whatever composes my identity. I cannot imagine things being worse yet I am always surprised when things deteriorate even further. You can always feel worse pain. And, comparatively speaking, I am incredibly privileged. Both the past and the future seem like dead ends to me. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say, but I know I mean it.

[9leaguesofmirrors]

Death Of a Debt Collector (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

No... the title isn't a metaphor

CONTENT WARNING: Character death, minor descriptions of violence

When Ross opened the door to see a tall, silver-haired man in a black coat standing in front of him instead of his partner, there was no doubt in his mind that it wasn't going to be good news

"I'm not in debt to you, am I?" He asked with a drop of irritance in his tone

There was a strange look in the silver man's eyes, it was steely with an added element to it. Something that looked as though he would rather have been anywhere else - not because he didn't like Ross, but because the situation was painful

"This isn't about debt," the man explained "my name's Glenn, I-"

"Right, yes, you work for Joseph." By now, impatience was colouring Ross' voice "What happened? Did he do something stupid and get fired by his boss?"

"No, um, Mr. Lisgoe... maybe you should sit down-"

"Where's my partner, Glenn?"

Glenn sighed, looking down at the floor, seemingly trying to figure out how to get his words out. When he looked at Ross, his eyes held a feeling of pity

Ross hated the sight of them

"Mr. Lisgoe had to be called out to deal with a difficult target," Glenn said "I don't know what happened, but I got a call from Hammonds and he explained everything."

Ross was was smart enough to start connecting the dots. But he wasn't too worried, Lisgoe got hurt a lot on the job and, although it wasn't a pretty sight, he always bounced back eventually. That resilience, his pure stubbornness, was something Ross had grown to admire and, in his own way, love about him

"So he's in hospital." He said, nodding in understanding, his face neutral "How long will he be in for?"

Once again, that horrible silence

"Hammonds said that the target had a gun."

... No

"And, well he waited until Mr. Lisgoe was leaving."

It didn't... he couldn't have...

"And, well, apparently it did a lot of damage. Mr. Lisgoe had to be rushed off in an ambulance..."

Glenn looked down again, clearly uncomfortable

Not Joseph

"How bad is it?"

More silence. God, Ross couldn't cope with more silence

"Glenn, how bad are his injuries."

"Mr Gaines..." Glenn took a deep breath and faced him with a calm expression "Mr. Lisgoe didn't make it."

"Don't say stupid things like-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gaines, but I thought you should know considering your relationship with him. But he didn't make it. Mr. Lisgoe passed away before he made it to the hospital."

At once, Ross was painfully aware of how chillingly cold the wind was. How lifeless and grey Royston Vasey looked today. The way everything just looked so... dull. As if anything that made it interesting or darkly amusing had been drained from it. Like its light had been forcibly ripped from it

Joseph Nigel Lisgoe, that stubborn man, was gone

No, not "gone". Don't say "gone", why sugar-coat it now? He's dead. Joseph is dead

"I want you to leave." He said, sharply "Now."

"I understand."

As Glenn left, Ross slammed the door shut behind him and headed into the kitchen. What he needed right now was a cup of coffee

Well, he wasn't going to get back what he actually needed right now

Even pouring his coffee, a task which usually signified the end of a long, hard day, was tainted by a gust of heaviness. As if the loss of Joseph manifested in chains and shackles that made everyday movements more of a chore. He didn't want to do anything, he wasn't even sure he wanted his coffee

He made it away, holding it in his hands as he made his way into the living room and sat down. Looking around, he never realised the walls could be so meaningless. What used to be a home was now nothing more than four walls, a roof, a ceiling, and a few pieces of furniture

It was a joint effort, making this place their own. Now it didn't even feel like Ross' anymore

Every single thing in that living room, in that whole house, linked him to a corpse. A corpse that once was a man who knew the best and worst sides of Ross, a man that knew his deepest secrets and what he looked like when he cried. Joseph knew everything about him, and now he'd taken it all to the grave

How ironic?

Ross stared at the murky brown of his coffee - of all days for a cup of coffee to turn out horrible - and felt his stomach churn. Right now, he didn't need coffee. He needed to be out in the air. He needed to shut himself away forever. He needed to pull himself together, he needed to drown in whatever his feeling was

He needed Lisgoe to walk through the door and take a swig out of a wine bottle just because it annoyed Ross to bits

He needed to get into one of those pointless spats they always got into

He needed be get annoyed, ticked off, frustrated by him

He needed the pissy attitude, the foul mouth, the stench of cigarette smoke

He needed to hear the cackling laughter that only he ever managed to catch glimpses of, he needed to feel the press of his lips against the corner of his mouth, he needed to see his tattoos and those dull blue eyes, he needed to hear his distinct voice...

God, it was all so cliché and pathetic, but he just needed Joseph around

With all the logic and intellect he possessed, he couldn't come up with any way to hide it. There was no way to keep his pain and anguish bottled in his stomach

He just wanted his partner back, as much as he hated to admit it, he finally knew what people meant when they said "a part of me died with him"

It was hollow

It was raw

It was exactly why he promised himself to never be so stupid as to give his heart to someone

And, for once, he let his brain take a backseat. And his heart was what ended up hurting

He closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat as he felt himself sink into it, allowing the guilt to loom over him like a storm. Wallowing in pain and shame, cursing himself for ever letting himself get so attached

He was angry at himself

He was angry at the... bastard that shot his partner

Despite everything, he couldn't get mad at Lisgoe

Oh god... he really did love him

And he was too much of a coward to say it

In his grief, in his pain, in his torment, he still found it in himself to admire Joseph's bravery If nothing else, he wanted to hold onto the memory of that, of him, until his hands were red and raw.

He took another look around the room. It was in that moment he realised just how many tiny fragments of Joseph Lisgoe there were. There were little memories attached to so many things, tiny things that brought him right back to the strange, imperfectly perfect life they had

Lisgoe had left behind so much without even realising

That's what eventually made Ross break down his walls

Without even knowing, Lisgoe had given him so much to remember him by. So much that made the pain less stinging

His final act, though he'd have never seen it that way, was one of immense kindness. And that was how Ross chose to remember him

[wooden-spaceship]

Hello everyone, it's me again. Today I wanted to give you a small update on how my situation and development of the great dead bird desert is going.

First of all thanks for liking my recent work. It gave me a bump in motevation. And that's gonna be an important word later on, keep that in your minds. Anyways, let's get to the recent stuff I did for the great dead bird desert shall we? First off all the Canyon is going to get a big update. I am trying to figure out Axiom to see how it can form organic material. Here's my first finished result for the canyon's revamp below.

Again I am trying to figure that stuff out so I might not be a pro. The science express also got a massive overhaul for its interior design, leaning more into the science-y feel of the concept art for trainwreck of science.

The left shows the old versions of how the carts used to look like. The right side shows the newer, overhauled versions. Back to the map itself.

The reddest deadest desert is actually nearing its end- Nope, still going. Can I be honest with you? Like really be honest? So I havent been so clear about how progress went now was I? In all honesty THERE WAS NO PROGRESS like look at those renders down there, that is the ENTIRE map, no cuts, no nothing the entire thing.

if im honest, I feel ashamed for the slow progress that I've been making. Its a real buzzkill. Rant Incoming. Scroll down for information and more screenshots. Though, there is a reason why progress wasnt really that good. You see where that "important word" comes in? Yes thats right, the word called motevation, you see where I'm going with this, right? Recently I've noticed that I am not happy with this whole minecraft map thing since it's just a loop of "build this, release it on pmc, next project" I honestly dont even know when this whole thing started im just frustrated and unmotivated and the worst part is it's been bleeding into my personal live as well. Because It honestly feels like a meaningless loop, making something and then just going on and on. I know that's how some things go and all but I'd like to feel some sort of accomplishment for the "hard work" that I do, but nope it's just another moment where I say, 'thats done with, next thing' and honestly the projects I've been working on during TGDBD havent given me the same feeling either. For example heres a map I've been building

its a small fnaf themed map, it took a lot of time to make, you'd think that I should feel some sort of 'good' feeling when looking at it, but the only thing I am reminded of is how frustrating it was working with chisle and bits!

Let me give you another example this time from TGDBD The Original version of DBS

even now when I look at this it makes me puke at the though of that god damn lag that kept terrorising me while I made this, it was unbarable! I decided to stop building and revamp it later on because the performance was so LOW and dont get me started on that god damn piece of glass that says 'Dead Bird Studio' on it this thing still haunts me to this day!! You see where I am going with this? No? Well what I'm trying to tell you is these mods just make it harder and harder to work on this map. You might be suggesting 'why not remove the mods if they are such a pain?' well problem is they are sort of the backbone of the map. Since a few parts of the map rely on these mods otherwhise It'll break and I really really wanted players to drive the Conductors train (and it was ofc for myself to enjoy) but instead of coming to enjoy this map, I came to hate it. I dont want to hate it, but these past negative experiences are just overweighting the positive experiences I had. Not to mention I am in my last year of Highschool which is, of course, the most demanding year! So that also didn't give me enough time to work on this map. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Do you understand where I am coming from now? Good! Because I have made the executive decision to Cancel this map! I'm sorry if this made anyone sad if you even cared for this project that is.

I know that whole rant up there wasnt the most professional but I honestly feel ashamed for not getting much done with the time I actually had.

Anyways, files for this map wont get given out, maybe on high demand but thats unlikely.

Thanks for all the support. ~T.L.

[punkpandapatrixk]

The Kind of Sad You Can’t Understand

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why.

For such a long time I lived with this kind of mood without being able to express it anywhere, not to anyone. I was struggling for my sanity; I was constantly thinking of destroying myself; and I was hoping someone would see me, and rush to save me. But nobody ever saw that of me.

I was a badass. I was a cool girl. I seemed to everybody else a smart, talented, expensive girl who's got all her shit together. Even on days she wasn't all that together, she had an enviable life anyway. I appeared on the outside too glamorous for anybody to even imagine that on the inside I was rotting. I was this close to being dead, all the time.

Who in their simple-mindedness would've thought a girl like that could be so macabre all the time? And that’s how I experienced an entire life witnessing people’s lack of empathy. I guess my point of view was fragmented but that was how life was for me anyway. Ironically, some intuitive peeps who were able to see the macabre in me thought I was frightening more than anything HAHAHAH That was all the same in the end. Enough with the gossips. I don’t know what normal people expect from everybody else they meet, to be honest. I don’t know what I’d expected from them either.

I guess it’s because the society I grew up in was like that that I couldn’t bring myself to show anybody my distress. Trauma. Mental illness. Disordered personality. All of that was nothing but insanity. And insane people don’t belong in society.

So simple. Yet so cruel.

Thank you, Jesus. Mother Mary. Catholic Church. Thanks for all the rejection. I’m SO happy now!

That’s fucking twisted.

In a society brimming with nothing but pretenders, we meet and chit and chat and act like all of our troubles are manageable to say the least. ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad, to be honest.' But it was; you've just got to pose real strong otherwise people think you're a loser. 'I guess I’m OK.’ But you weren't; you've just got to really make it sound like you're still keeping it together. 'I'll be just fine.' But you wouldn't know; you didn't even know if you'd still wanna be alive tomorrow.

In the midst of all those meaningless exchanges, I hated quite nothing more than to hear, especially from men, how strong I was as a woman. I hated it like I'd never hated anything in my life.

It was suffocating to be seen as holding it together when you were literally breaking at the seams...

I wanted someone to be able to notice I was screaming on the inside. That I was gasping for air every second I was sitting there listening to their trivial chitter chatter. Who cares about your silly drama? Would you care for mine if you knew my life was on the line? And I hated those expectant eyes. All of them. Were they expecting me to share in their self-made woes and console them in the end? HAH. Go to hell, losers.

I always thought, none of MY problems were created by my own reckless behaviours that would've obviously hurt myself or others. Not in the beginning, at least. Unlike some idiots, I was never into drugs, one night stands, or even smoking; I never caused anybody any trouble. So why did everybody cause me trouble when all I wanted was just a peaceful, normal life? Shit, what even was my IDEA of a normal life? I can't remember now.

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why. There's always not enough reason to do so now. Haah... If it weren't for my abundance of Aquarius, which makes me incredibly lazy and antisocial, I'd have paraded around town and rallied to become a Neo Hitler and kill everybody in this rotten world. I hated this world so much.

The first ever PAC I put out here was ‘What’s Your Crazy?’ What ever was my reason for writing that? I was crazy and I needed some explanation.

I used to look like the girl in the third pic before I chopped all of my hair off everyone began to suspect I was gay. I wasn’t gay; I was depressed. Those unassuming idiots.

[riverhag2]

my favorite characters die in my favorite media all the damn time

my current hyper focus is a tragic opera that ends with my blorbo having his life flash before his eyes in a horrid fever dream where he's confronted for perhaps the first time with how horribly he's failed everyone he's ever loved and then he dies

death isn't the problem

pointless and hurried stuff-her-in-a-fridge death that doesn't actually even serve the narrative purpose cobbled together as an after-the-fact explanation is the problem

the idea that Izzy's arc was "over" is frankly ludicrous

he'd only just begun to rediscover the parts of himself he'd buried away or lost to piracy, to Blackbeard, to Ed

he'd only just found love with the crew

he'd only just started the arc that Stede and Ed set off on in the beginning of s1

his death does nothing for his character

it also does nothing for anyone else's

smarter people than me have spoken extensively on why the "mentor/father figure" thing is just outright non-existent in the text

even without that, the show is obviously trying to use Izzy's death to free Ed from the mantle of blackbeard and that would be a valid and interesting narrative choice if you'd set that up at any point before the last five minutes of the last episode but um

Ed had already begun the work of releasing himself from blackbeard, and even when he dons the leathers once again, it's not even the tiniest bit for Izzy's sake nor in any way at Izzy's insistence or encouragement (and in fact, Izzy had already encouraged him to step away from it)

whatever is still tying Ed to blackbeard, it is textually very much not Izzy

Izzy's dying sentiment of "they love you" holds no water because out of Ed, Stede, and Izzy, only one of them has actually connected with the crew this season and it sure as fuck isn't Ed

Izzy's dying admonition of "you're surrounded by family" is immediately followed by Ed and Stede fucking off and leaving the ship

there's nothing in Izzy's death that serves Ed narratively

there's apparently then the argument that Izzy is representative of old piracy, a dying world, and therefore he must die (which, ok, fine, but to what end?) but that's *actually insane* in the context of a show entirely about starting over in middle age

killing a character is often a good narrative choice, but if you're gonna kill him, doing it with a stray bullet in the middle of his arc in a way that does nothing to further anyone else's narrative is at best a cheap emotional punch

death also is the problem though

in a show where mortal wounds seem to pass almost unnoticed amongst our heroes, casual death by a stray bullet is bonkers

in a show where the only real villain is a cruel and corrupt state, to punish with death someone at the mercy of that cruel and corrupt state is bonkers

most importantly: in a show that presented itself as ultimately being about queer outsiders finding family in each other, there's no good reason for any of the foundlings to die

even assuming they're planning some miraculous resurrection for Izzy in s3, they work very hard to show you precisely how dead he is here

they want you to know and believe that he absolutely is dead

Lucius falls into the sea in a way that no one ever once believed actually meant he was dead

in contrast, we watch the light go out of Izzy's eyes after he tells Ed he's ready to go

we see him buried in the dirt

if this truly is meant to be impermanent, then it is even more cruel and meaningless than if they actually just killed him for nothing and no amount of "indestructible little fucker" foreshadowing redeems it

I hate everything about this ending, for everyone involved

it's such a disappointment

[fluentmoviequoter]

Bodyguard, Not a Friend

Requested Here!

Pairing: John Casey x fem!agent!reader (you pick which agency but I imply that r is not NSA)

Summary: You and Casey have hated one another since you became spies. Yet, when your life is in danger, he is chosen to protect you. As he completes his mission, you find that your hatred of him may not be as real as you thought.

Warnings: angst, r is attacked and injured, mentions of drug/weapon trafficking and murder, slight fluff at the end (and a somewhat open ending)

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist | Casey Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“And you,” your instructor says, saving in your general direction, “are with John Casey.”

You roll your eyes. Every person you have learned from since deciding to leave your life behind and become a spy has some strange fascination with Casey. You often wonder why because this is his second attempt to get through the class. If John failed once, it seems he isn’t good enough, yet every opportunity to brag about him is taken. He’s the favorite, but he’s ranked second in the class. You plan to keep it that way, no matter what it takes.

“Let’s get this over with,” Casey mumbles as he approaches you.

“After you,” you invite with a dramatic sweep of your arm. “Since you’re the only one that seems to matter.”

Casey scoffs. “Get over whatever that was because we have work to do.”

“And if I don’t listen to you you’ll leave me to die. Remind me, what happened to your last partner?”

Casey’s eyes darken as the muscles in his jaw tighten quickly. “Maybe I will. Just stay out of my way.”

“I’d like nothing more.”

Soon after your successful assignment with Casey, you are offered a position working for the United States government. When you walk away from the training facility that has been your home, you are more than happy to leave it and Casey as you go your separate ways. Since he implied he’d kill you for getting in his way, you decided that beating Casey as rivals in the spy equivalent of a classroom wasn’t enough. You hate John Casey and do not doubt he feels the same.

“Major Casey,” General Beckman says through the video call. “I have your new assignment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Casey replies.

A picture appears on the screen, and Casey clenches his fists at his sides to control his emotions. He hasn’t seen you since you were teamed together for a meaningless assignment. Though you worked well together within the mission parameters, Casey hated every minute of being that close to you.

“Another rogue agent?” Casey guesses.

“No. Are you familiar with Damion Messing?”

“The assassin for hire?”

“Amongst other things. Messing is also a go-between for killers and the people who need others dead. He’s connected to international drug trafficking rings, federal treasury robberies, and suspected of orchestrating the recent string of public executions at the border.”

“What does Messing have to do with…” Casey trails off, flipping his hand toward your picture.

“She got too close to him. During an undercover operation, Messing got suspicious.”

“General,” Casey begins.

She raises her hand to silence him. “Your job is to make sure no one gets close enough to hurt her before she can finish the assignment.”

“You want me to be her bodyguard?” Casey clarifies.

“Is that a problem, Major Casey?”

Casey takes a calming breath before he answers, “No, ma’am.”

There is a problem. Every part of this assignment is a problem, but most alarming, Casey thinks, is you. However, Casey is good at his job and will do it. Even if he’s considered threatening you himself before.

“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” you say when you open the door.

“No,” Casey answers quickly. “I’m here because I have to be.”

“Then I will happily dismiss you.”

“Let me in,” Casey demands.

“I can take care of myself, Major,” you insist, your grip tightening on the door.

“Clearly you can’t if you let Messing close enough to put out a hit on you.”

“He doesn’t know anything,” you argue. “I just asked too many questions, nothing that would put the department at risk.”

“Yet here we are. Are you going to let me in?”

You huff as you push the door open roughly. “Only because I have to.”

“Since when do you take orders?” Casey mumbles as he steps past you.

“Apparently I have no say anymore because I put a target on my own back.”

Casey rolls his eyes as you walk away. He’ll do his job and keep you alive, but that doesn’t mean he has to interact with you.

“Bodyguard,” you call over your shoulder. “Not friend.”

“I’m aware.”

Your fingers tap the table beside your open laptop as you think. Messing may have kicked you out and promised to kill you for looking too closely into his operation, but he forgot one thing. You were around long enough to get copies of everything that matters to him and his illegal affairs.

“Four thousand…” you mutter. “Plus twelve percent of the weapon reallocation.”

Lost in the data you stole and have yet to decode, you don’t notice Casey walk into the room. He watches you for a moment as your mouth moves while you read. He looks away when you tip your head back in frustration.

“Where would he take it?” you ask aloud.

“Messing?” Casey inquires.

You nod and return to your previous position. As you drop your head into your hands, Casey watches you again. You’re both drawn from the moment when glass shatters above you.

Casey pulls his gun from its holster and points at you. He waves toward the panic room of the safe house, but you stand and turn to face the same way as him.

“No,” he whispers harshly.

You ignore him, raising your weapon as you move silently toward the stairs. Someone calls your name, and you stop. Casey pauses behind you, reluctantly taking your lead.

“Go left,” he instructs quietly.

You nod and don’t question him as you step to the far side of the staircase. As you climb to the second floor, you and Casey cover one another. Near the top, you put your hand on Casey’s chest and point to a creaky stair. He nods once and steps over it, your hand sliding off him as he moves.

“Come out,” the intruder calls. “Damion sent a message for you.”

Casey gestures for you to wait, but you keep your gun ready to defend him and yourself. He walks toward the end of the hallway, oblivious to the door beside you opening. You’re pulled inside, your gun clattering to the ground, before you can warn Casey that there’s more than one.

Inside the bedroom, you are shoved against the wall, and a knife is raised to your throat. You smile at Damion’s right-hand man, though you view him more as an errand boy.

“Where is it?” he demands, pushing his free hand against your right shoulder.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” you reply.

Several shots echo through the house, and you briefly close your eyes as you hope that Casey is okay.

“The sword.”

You open your eyes at his unexpected answer. “What sword?”

“The one you stole.”

With your brows furrowed, you try to remember seeing a sword in Damion’s compound. He has innumerable weapons, but you can’t recall any specific sword. The man before you shifts his weight, and you bring up a knee to block him from stabbing you. Your quick movement knocks both of you off balance, and you hiss when the knife slides along your lower leg, but don’t stop. Raising both hands to his shoulders, you shove him backward and barely manage to catch yourself when you tumble over him.

“It doesn’t have to end like this,” he says.

“Then leave,” you respond before lunging toward him.

Casey hears a door slam behind him but doesn’t look away from the door at the end of the hallway. He can see shadows under the door; two people are inside, but he still has the element of surprise.

“One, two, three,” Casey counts under his breath.

Raising his gun, Casey fires two quick shots. He sees the shadows drop to the ground, and then carefully pushes the door open. The room is clear, and he turns to alert you. When he realizes the hallway is empty, he regrets not turning earlier.

A dull thud, one that Casey identifies as someone being shoved against drywall, causes him to raise his gun again. Before he reaches the door he thinks you were taken into, a loud noise stops him. Casey can make out your voice, muffled through the door, and knows you’re fighting. If he barges in now, he could make it worse. But he’s your bodyguard, this is his assignment, and he doesn’t like not knowing what is happening.

“Colombia,” you remember.

“Where is it?” the man standing above you yells.

You smile as he raises the knife. “I mailed it back to Colombia.”

Before he can bring the knife down into your chest, you pull your hands to either side of your head and drive your elbows into his collarbone. He grunts in pain as you flip over him and pin him to the ground. While he reaches blindly for his knife, you point your gun directly at his forehead.

“Is the sword the key?” you ask.

“Just shoot me,” he says, raising to press his head against the barrel.

You shake your head, then yell in pain when he swings his arm against your side. Immediately, the door is broken open, and a single shot stops your attacker before he can get his knife and finish.

Casey keeps his gun aimed at the downed man but looks at you. You sit back and release a breath, then grimace.

“Why did you do that?” Casey asks, his voice low and dark.

“Do what? Help you?” you question. “This is my fight, Casey.”

“And your safety my assignment! Despite how little I care about you or what trouble you get yourself into, my job is to keep you safe. That means you don’t get involved!” His voice raises with each word, and he yells the last part before holstering his gun.

“I’m already involved, Casey!”

“Not in this part. Just do what I say so we can both do what we need to and walk away!”

“Why do you care, Casey?” you demand loudly. “If they kill me, you get a new assignment!”

Casey turns away from you and mumbles something you can’t make out. “I don’t fail my assignments,” he says finally. “And I’m not going to start now.”

“Then do something about these geniuses and I’ll get back to work.”

You push yourself up to stand, but your side and leg protest with each movement. Wrapping your arm around your torso, you apply as much pressure as you can handle and ignore the warm blood running down your calf and to your ankle.

“Stop,” Casey says.

You don’t listen, and he wraps his hand around your bicep.

“I don’t need your help, Casey,” you whisper, looking into his eyes as you will your own not to tear up. “You’re here to keep me safe, right? So don’t worry about the trouble I get myself into. Just keep me out of Damion Messing’s trouble.”

Casey’s hand tightens around your arm, a gentle pressure you are surprised to miss when he pulls away. You nod once before you exit the room. As you slowly descend the stairs to treat your injuries, you hear Casey make a phone call. Part of you wants to listen, but you have bigger problems to focus on, like a sword from Colombia.

With your hands on your hips, you look up into the closet of stolen items. Your time with Damion provided plenty of evidence, but the one thing you need is just out of reach. Leaning back gently, you look into the kitchen and see Casey reviewing a layout of the safe house.

“Uh, Casey?” you call.

He grunts in response, and you take it as an invitation to continue.

“Can you help me with something?”

Casey freezes for a second, then looks up at you. “What?”

“I need the box at the top of the closet, but I…”

“Have broken ribs,” Casey finishes for you.

You didn’t tell him how bad the injury was, but your lack of upward movement probably did. Casey nods as he approaches you. There isn’t time to move out of the way before Casey’s chest presses against your back while he reaches over your head. He pulls the box down, then steps away from you to carry it to the table.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. Somewhere, some time since Casey arrived and forced you to let him in, you’ve stopped hating him. He saved your life, but that isn’t enough of a reason. Casey will leave when you find this sword, but you aren’t sure you want that anymore.

“Is this the sword you’ve been mumbling about?” Casey asks, raising a bag with a blade. “A machete from grima?”

“That’s why I couldn’t remember it!” you cheer. “I knew there wasn’t a sword.”

Casey passes the evidence bag to you, and you flip the blade in your hands. The blade tip is heavier than the handle, the opposite of how it should be. The unevenness led you to take it, but now it seems justified.

“I bet there’s drugs in it,” you muse.

“It is from Colombia,” Casey grumbles in agreement.

“I need to call my general. If this is full of drugs, my job is done.”

“Then mine is too.”

You nod at Casey, then carry the sword out of the room. Working with Casey was just as effective now as years ago, but the reminder that he’s leaving (and wants to) disappoints you. The call connects before you can dwell on Casey’s approaching departure for too long, and you launch into explaining what you found.

The morning after your call, you wake in the safe house for the last time. There’s no sound, no movement, and you wonder what it would be like to live here, to be a normal person and appreciate life and nature for what it is. But you chose this life, you think as you throw the blankets off and get out of bed.

“Casey?” you call as you walk into the kitchen.

Silence is your only reply, and your good mood disappears when you see a piece of paper tucked under your laptop.

My reassignment came quickly. Call if you need anything. -Casey

His number is under the note, and you press the paper to your chest. Casey still gets under your skin and seems to think he’s a better spy than you, but the hatred you held onto for so many years is nowhere to be found.

As you save his number to your phone and begin packing your belongings, your phone rings. Your new assignment came quickly, too, it seems.

“Good morning, General,” you greet.

“There’s a situation in Santiago. I need you on the next plane,” he explains quickly.

“Santiago… Chile?”

“Yes. Other agents are inbound and will meet you there. When you land, the lead agent will have the mission information.”

“Who is the lead agent?”

“He’s NSA, that’s all I know.”

“Understood. I’ll be there.”

The line beeps when he disconnects, and you fold Casey’s note into your pocket. Even if he’s not the agent you’re meeting in South America, you haven’t lost him yet.

[astarionfreak]

Gireoowoeofivjvnwkkskdkfjcvdbs based on your fiction of dying tav how would astarion react to this:

As she starts feeling that she is starting to lose consciousness, she uses the last strength she has to hug Astarion tightly and whispers “part of me is relieved.. I know you were just pretending and this is the most I can get to be with the one I love, part of me is relieved that I helped you ascend so after my death you will remain safe, I won’t be there to protect you but you won’t need me to.”

She’d start speaking slower, fighting to let out the words “I will tell you something funny. I am getting jealous of whoever you will end up with after I die. I wish it was me that would get to know every corner of your soul but I hope you find happiness..” after a few quiet moments she says her last thing “if reincarnation is real, I hope I never get reincarnated if I don’t get to see him again..”

Ahhhh! Okay. Hmm. Lemme see.

Original fic: You'll hate me (make love)

cw; major character death, sad vibes

Tav rested in Astarion's lap, her arms curled around him, her face pressed against the curve of his neck. How long they had been like this? Astarion did not know. He wasn't counting the seconds. He was listening to the drumming of her heart -- and with each passing moment the beats grew further apart.

Her heart. The very thing that kept her here, with him, that pumped her blood through her veins -- it had been steadily growing weaker for some time now. It wouldn't be long before her mortal form betrayed her. Before her soul was plucked like a ripened cherry in the summer heat.

So, he listened, completely silent, not even daring to breathe, as she spoke her final words. Her voice, weak, as though each word was a struggle. Astarion wished he could ease her pain, but death would soothe her soon enough.

Astarion was quiet, listening to the sounds of her failing body for a moment longer before he spoke.

"Yes, little love, it is funny that you believe there will be anyone after you," Astarion whispered. "There is no being, not in my past, nor in my future that could possibly bring me the happiness you offered in our short time together."

She was too weak to respond, falling limp, fading in his arms. He knew this feeling well. Countless others had died at his hand, but it wasn't like this -- it didn't hurt like this. Their lives were meaningless. She was -- gods, she was everything.

And it stung, knowing that she did not truly love him. Not in the way she used to. That she yearned for a version of him who was long dead. The version of him that had been so weak, so pathetic --

He loathed the old him. But he pretended, for her. His reasons, for all of this, they were his own. He would not speak them aloud. He would not even allow himself to think on it.

"I'll find you again, he'll find you, I swear it," Astarion whispered. "There is nothing that could keep us apart, my love, not even the promise of oblivion."

He would do almost anything to freeze this moment. To keep her here, his, forever. But she hadn't given him enough time. Part of him resented her for that -- it was easier to hate her than to blame himself for his shortcomings.

What good was all this power if he couldn't have her? If the only one he'd ever truly cared for could still be taken from him?

He lost her the day she walked away. He let her go. He should have stopped her -- he should have turned her then. She would have forgiven him in time, surely. No --

No, the cost would have been too high. They were both so strong willed. He would have destroyed her love. She would have ruined him in return.

This was better. This, this ending, it would mean that what they had was real -- and would remain that way, in his memory, for as long as he lived.

A/N: Okay, so, he almost seems too well adjusted here and I swear he's not. Lol. He's actually a mess.